


tokophobia

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Egg Laying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No fucking yet. Will come in ch2, Non-Human Genitalia, just exploring auri headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 20:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: Blanche's eyebrows furrow as soon as she gets home. She puts her key into the basket by the door, rowing the greenery and sitting area with her eyes.Unless Luka was home (which he wasn't. she'd know her son's voice), the house was supposed to be quiet. Iphi always worked silently, no matter what he was doing, and it's not like he could mutter to himself. Except there were noises coming from the basement, and Blanche could feel concern bubbling up within her.





	tokophobia

**Author's Note:**

> The Canon has been roasted @ 155° for 3 solid hours. This isn't how anatomy works but by god it is now.

Blanche's eyebrows furrow as soon as she gets home. She puts her key into the basket by the door, rowing the greenery and sitting are with her eyes.

Unless Luka was home (which he wasn't. she'd know her son's voice), the house was supposed to be quiet. Iphi always worked silently, no matter what he was doing, and it's not like he could mutter to himself. Except there were noises coming from the basement, and Blanche could feel concern bubbling up within her.

What if something happened to him? What if someone broke in…?

Realistically, Iphi could end the life of anyone and anything attempting harm to him, but Blanche isn't working on realistically when she makes her way down the stairs.

There's stew bubbling on the stove, dangerously close to spilling over the edge. She turns the heat off, ears perking towards the sounds coming from the bedroom.

Whines.

She has her greatsword strapped to her back, and a hand goes up to it immediately. The door is ajar, and every further step into the house makes more red flags ring out in her mind.

She pushes the door open further with her foot, slipping in carefully. The whines get unmistakably loud now and make her peek around the corner at the bed nook.

She finds Iphi spread on the bed, lacking any clothes and very obviously aroused. He's hugging a pillow, knees braced on the covers as he rubs himself against them.

She lets out a breath halfway between a relieved sigh and a chuckle; here she was worrying her head off, and Iphi was just feeling lonely.

She's about to go and help him out, tell him what happened so they can laugh together, but then her eyes drop to between his legs.

His pouch strains; he whines again, curling up to the side and, if possible at this point, pulling the pillow even closer to himself. He's tense, sweat covering his skin and making it glisten in the low light.

Blanche watches, transfixed, as he shivers, and then, to her surprise, something pops out of his pouch. A spotted, oval-- is that an egg?!

Iphi sobs, sagging limply. There's tears rolling down his face and his hair is messed up, plastered to his forehead with the sweat.

He curls up for a moment, before it happens again. His lips fall open with a voiceless cry, a choked whine all that fills the room. Another egg falls onto the covers, covering them with slick.

Only then does Blanche notice there's already half a dozen scattered where the mattress meets the edge, close to falling into the gap between the cushions.

How long has Iphi been… at this?

Blanche blinks dumbly at the display as Iphi finally rolls over onto his side, still clutching at the pillow like a lifeline. He hugs it to his stomach; he must be in pain.

Blanche swallows thickly, forcing the thoughts of "I can't be a father, oh gods," from her mind along with the eggs. Iphi barely stirs when she places a hand onto his shoulder, running over his scales.

"Darlin', are ya okay?" she asks, and that makes him open his eyes.

He stares up at her for a moment. His eyes don't seem to glow as much as they usually do, hazy and unfocused and still leaking, but he springs up after blinking them out a few times.

"I'm fine," he signs. He's twitching as he moves, doing his best not to wince.

Blanche frowns, wants to reach out and hello, but she doesn't know how. She doesn't even know what she'd just witnessed.

Iphi's still hard, cocks bouncing the barest amount as he stands up, but he grabs a pair of his shorts from the ground and hides them. And, again, tries to hide the way his face scrunches when he leans down.

"I-" His fingers freeze, face falling as he looks down at the bed. "I'll go get rid of these."

He grabs a basket that she didn't even notice was there from the side table and starts picking the eggs from the bed. Some of them are still sticky, but he doesn't say anything as he slinks out of the bedroom with a basketful of eggs he'd just laid, leaving Blanche feeling a little nauseous.

What the hell does he mean, get rid of them? What the hell was going on?

Maybe she isn't the brightest cookie, but don't eggs mean kids? What does he mean get rid of them?

She's sprinting after him, heart pounding in her throat. She-- she knows she said she doesn't want to raise babies, but Iphi can't just- throw them out! And anyway, isn't that so unlike him? Is he doing this because of her?

She catches up to him when he's already over the fence, tossing the contents of the baskets down into the river.

"Wait--!" she cries, but it's too late. She can't even hear the cracking of the eggs over the volume of the stream.

Iphi is hunching over, appearing so much smaller than he is as he turns to her, cocking his head to the side. He doesn't seem to be crying anymore, but there's still the tear tracks on his cheeks.

"How-- how could y'just do that?" she asks, breathless and… stumped.

"Do what?"

He's clutching the empty basket. God, he's still covered in sweat and his own fluids, and Blanche feels like she'll go crazy. This is some kinda weird nightmare, right?

"Y'just… ya just killed them, Iph…"

He blinks at her, and then his lips turn down. The look he gives her is the most crestfallen one she'd ever seen. It pulls at something inside her, makes her feel like she'll puke right then and there.

"Don't worry, they weren't fertilized," is all he signs before he rounds the side of the house and disappears from sight. Blanche hears the front door open and close.

And then she's following him.

She finds him in the kitchen, donning a shirt as well now, and cutting popotos like there wasn't a pot of perfectly cooked stew sitting on the counter.

"Iph, talk to me," she begs him, biting her bottom lip. He's doing his best to appear like nothing has happened, but every movement he makes is making him grimace and wince.

He puts the knife down after a particularly violent shiver and grips the edge of the counter for a moment.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"What d'you mean?"

"The stew is done," he says instead, "I need to sit down for a moment. Sorry."

Blanche doesn't know if he expects her to just pull a bowl out and eat, but even if she hadn't eaten in a week, it still wouldn't be higher on her list of priorities than making sure he's fine.

She goes into the bedroom with him. He'd managed to change the bedsheets already, somehow, but he falls atop the bed instead of sitting like he'd said.

"C'mon," she says, sitting on the edge. He doesn't pull away when she reaches out and runs her claws through his hair, "tell me what's going on?"

"It just hurts," he says, pulling his knees up to his stomach.

Blanche swallows. "What hurts?"

He looks at her, almost as if begging her to stop. Maybe she's just hurting him more now. She wants to bite her tongue for not shutting up.

"My stomach."

He still lets her stroke his hair, so at least she's doing one thing right, maybe. "Did this ever happen b'fore?"

Maybe she's dreading the answer, but nothing could've prepared her for the next exchange.

"It happens every year." Iphi falters, looks away from her. "I'm sorry."

"Why're ya apologizing, rose?"

His signs are weird when he has an arm under himself, but Blanche had long gotten used to it. "You weren't supposed to see it. You never wanted kids, and… You can't fertilize my eggs, but I- I knew you'd get scared and wouldn't want to make love with me anymore."

"Oh, darlin', have you been worried about that this while time?" she coos, getting into the bed if only so she could hold him, nuzzle into his neck like always.

His lack of response is an answer in itself.

"Rose, y'know I wouldn't do that. Y'explained, didn't ya? There's no way I wouldn't wanna make love to you anymore."

One of his hands comes up to grip the front of her top, shaky and uncertain. She can feel his hardness against her thigh even through the shorts. She knows what she wants to do - she wants to alleviate those worries of his, but she doesn't know everything yet.

"Y'look like yer in pain, Iphi. Are ya sure this is okay?"

He wraps an arm around her, smushes their chests together. He's nodding a little too enthusiastically against Blanche's shoulder. Probably hiding more tears at the same time.

And, well, at least she knows what to do now.


End file.
